


Greased Magnetising

by widgenstain



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Bachelorette Party, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Erik is a Big Dorkface, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs, terrible title is terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3389438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik - the Master of Magnetism and seductive dance moves - gets hired for Raven's bachelorette party.</p><p>Charles rejoices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greased Magnetising

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dedkake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/gifts).



> I initially started writing this for the Secret Mutant Madness but endingthemes filled the same prompt quicker and far more impressively than I ever could. Still, a few days ago I decided to tie this loose end up. Dedkake, I hope you'll enjoy this very belated Secret Mutant gift!
> 
> All my love to gerec who worked her way through my babblings and made them presentable!

Charles wasn't one for this kind of cliché bachelorette party entertainment. The rather sticky experience during his first and last visit ever to a strip-club did not help its case. So initially he’d objected to Angel's plans of hiring a “hunky surprise” for Raven. He generally found it cheesy and the thought of paying a greased up, steroid addicted, hairless slime-ball 200 dollars to wiggle his crotch in front of his baby sister’s face left him a tad uncomfortable. But when one very persistent, winged maid of honour had pulled up an all-mutant male stripper website, he’d given in. At least like this they'd support the community. Personally he’d gone for Darwin’s Evoluptous show but he was quickly outvoted when the girls made the decision to go with Lumberjack Logan or The Master of Magnetism. The first thing he saw when he opened the door for Max Eisenhart indeed was a heavily pomaded shock of slicked back hair and a face that was at least ten years older than the pic on the website let on, which put him closer to Charles’ age range than the ladies present. On the other hand he was quite a bit more handsome than the pic too, as real life Eisenhart wasn’t covered in tons of spray tan and the angular jaw stood out even sharper.

“Hi, this is Darkholme, right? You ordered my services for tonight?”

Charles nodded and wondered what had happened to a good old dramatic entrance.

“Could you hold this please? I need two minutes to set things up.”

As it turned out “things” were having Charles plug in an i-pod in the dock station, stowing away a bag and putting on a the suit jacket of a grey three-piece that fit him and the James Bond-ish act like a glove. There was a little show in the beginning, finger guns and Daniel Craig's recorded voice; it left Charles with a ton of second-hand embarrassment but seemed to work like a spell on Angel and Anna Marie who tittered and hooted. Things got better when the music started and he slowly peeled himself out of the grey suit. His suspenders and cufflinks worked on their own, cutting buttons off the vest and shaping and re-shaping themselves in the air, much to Charles' delight. What a fascinating psychokinetic mutation! He briefly and very innocently thought of the possible uses for this kind of power, before the different, now vibrating forms derailed his thoughts into a far less innocent territory. All brain activity came to a halt though, when the sliding shirt gradually revealed toned, triangular, six-packy perfection. All of a sudden Charles was very much in tune with the pheromone soaked, lustful mood permeating the room. 

Anna Marie, Angel and Raven, all three pretty drunk on the pink bubbly they had had by the bottle tonight, were the ring leaders. They hollered and shrieked at every bit of naked skin, their minds filled with kinky thoughts and primal urges. Kitty on the other hand giggled and hid her red face behind her fingers, through which she peeked during the whole act. Clarice concealed her bone-deep embarrassment better, while Betsy still thought that hiring a female stripper would have been more fun. Ororo moved closer to better watch the lean muscles gyrate rhythmically to the beat and Moira… well... Charles knew of the mighty pervert hidden under that mousey exterior back from the time they'd had their little fling. 

The music intensified, as did the complexity of the formations in which the pieces of metal orbited the decreasingly clothed body. What initially had looked like some cheap “gadget” belt turned out to be a chain of silvery metal which melted with an inconspicuous twitch of the stripper's hand and flowed over his exposed skin, moving with the beat as well. With a histrionic gesture it raised from his hairless chest, the liquid metal flowing in the air. Then he used it on the excited parts of his audience, teasing and goading them while he carefully spared Kitty and Clarice (and Charles, not entirely to his dismay, the evening was about the girls). He pulled in Anna Marie in improvised handcuffs and she melodramatically mourned the necessary layer of gloves between the hot skin and her hands. She pulled off the last bit of the shirt though and the man proved his advertised flexibility to the audience. Charles had never known that handstands could be this sexy. Nor splits in the air and other acrobatic figures straight off the Olympic gymnast course book. Charles quickly crossed his legs to hide just how much he enjoyed the view. Wouldn't it be nice to see the strong back flexing and arching before him in entirely different circumstances? As Charles' mind drifted the stripper elegantly glided back to his feet and approached Raven with an understated pulse to his narrow hips. The way he surprisingly subtly simulated sex was hypnotising and the smug bastard knew it. With a crooked, confident grin he asked the bride-to-be her wish on this last night of freedom…

“Month, I get married next month.”

…and what The Master of Magnetism could do for her. Kitty cringed even more, but Raven rippled blue and fell to her knees.  
“There’s this thing I’ve always wanted to try out…”

Her hands slid down the steeled abs and back to the firm ass before she leaned in and pulled the guy’s zipper open with her teeth. Charles, whose protective instinct had immediately searched Eisenhart’s mind for any affront that could get Raven in danger, expected to find lust or annoyance. Instead he got a spike of pleasant, approving surprise. He looked at Raven’s scales like he saw them for the wonder they were, no revulsion or disrespect. Something close to gentle endearment rolled off the guy. That was when Charles decided that he liked Max Eisenhart. The massive package in the tight black g-string he revealed seconds later only solidified his opinion. They were finally down to the dreaded crotch-wriggling and it was ten times hotter that Charles could have ever thought. The melted cufflinks played with the string, pulling it up and then playfully slowly down the impossibly narrow hips. For the grand finale Eisenhart summoned the discarded fedora in a smooth movement and cut the string while spinning round. His private parts were covered by the hat but his audience got a great, full look at the small steeled buns Charles in this moment only wanted to sink his teeth in. The string flew through the air, Charles could barely keep himself from reaching for it, but then Angel got to it the quickest and dangled it above Moira’s face, who looked like she was very willing to fight her for it. Max bowed to the applause and hooting before he excused himself to put on some more comfortable underwear. In nothing more than black boxers, which left hardly more to the imagination than the string, he took the questions the girls had. Which other acts he did, yes they had a guy dressed as Spiderman, but he shot laser beams from his chest instead of webs from his wrists. He could control all kinds of metal and he said that he enjoyed it very much, performing in front of a group of such beautiful ladies. 

When the girls' interest was diverted back to the large quantities of alcohol they still had to work their way through tonight, he took Charles aside and asked if they had an iron he could use. He was booked for another party in an hour and a half and the trousers were wrinkly.  
So it came that Charles ended up in Raven's cluttered tiny bedroom with a stripper who proficiently ironed his tear away pants in nothing but boxer shorts.

Eisenhart broke the arising awkwardness when he began to speak.

“It's a nice gift for one's sister. To hire a stripper at her bachelorette party. I hope it wasn't too bad for you, was it?”

Charles didn't usually dip into people's minds if they'd never given him permission to, unless it was a situation of danger to him or Raven. But Charles also was the first to admit that he was shite at reading between the lines or any type of non-verbal communication. So he didn't understand if Eisenhart wanted him to go all dudebro and deny any enjoyment like a manly man would. Or if he wanted to hear Charles' praise and that he liked looking at (and touching) naked men quite a lot. The website had sported a rainbow flag after all. Ah, one glance wouldn't hurt anyone.

Among a stream of charged excitement from the performance there was _Damn those eyes! Neck, so soft, please be gay!_

Well...  
Charles raked his eyes over the toned physique, now taking in everything the discomfort of the situation before had kept him from drooling over. Consciously unsubtle. Damn, he was in good shape.

“Don't worry... I'm very capable of enjoying the beauty of any gender.” Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't suppress the urge to lick his lips.  
Eisenhart’s eyes flicked to them and a small smile started to curl on his mouth.

“That’s good to hear.”

“So, do you only dance at bachelorette parties or are you available for different occasions as well?”

The smile widened into a big and toothy grin. It was nothing like the smug smile he’d used for the performance but honest and charmingly dorky.

“All kinds of shindigs, bachelorette or bachelor parties, birthdays; I actually once was hired for a funeral.”

“What?! Are you kidding me?”

“No, it was a bunch of lovely old Jewish ladies who thought that it would be the most appropriate send-off for their friend. They were a great audience but a bit handsy.”

Charles full-out laughed.

“I can imagine! So the way Raven approached you... did it bother you?”

“Nooo, not at all. It's part of the show. The girls pay to touch “James Bond” and they get to do that. Plus I encouraged it, didn't I? This kind of involvement is actually easier to handle than a group of people who won't move at all. Too handsy looks very different, believe me. Like a 77-year old lady trying to demonstrate her blow-job skills on me.”

Charles laughed even harder.

“Oh dear. Ok, I'll better not tell you what Moira was thinking of, but it's a good thing you didn't stand closer to the one with the auburn hair.”

At Max’s surprised face Charles tipped his temple.

“Telepath. Don’t worry I’m not intruding unasked.”

Max’s face positively brightened.

“You’re all mutants?”

“Yes, except for Moira, but she’s very supportive. I by the way, was fascinated by your gift; and I’m not talking about how you looked in the g-string.”

Now Eisenhart threw his head back and barked a laugh. Charles could have sworn there was a little blush creeping on his cheeks too.

“Thank you!”

“Out of curiosity though, with a gift like this, why are working as a stripper? There is nothing wrong with it, but aren’t there jobs for you where you can keep your clothes on?”

Eisenhart knowingly wobbled his head and sprayed the trousers once again for the next round of ironing. There weren't many wrinkles left and the suspicion that he hadn't called Charles back for the iron alone rose in him.

“Sorry if I offended you in any way!”

“No, it’s alright. I get it. I thought the same way when I started out. All the stereotypes and prejudice; some of them a very true too. But it has great hours and it brings good money which is all I need right now.”

At Charles slightly worried look he added:  
“I’m an artist. One who has to pay quite a lot for rent and materials, so this job really is a blessing.”

“An artist?! What kind of art?”

On the outside Eisenhart looked unfazed, but the excited flutter in his chest would have been obvious to anyone with the lowest telepathic abilities.

“Sculptures, I do sculptures. Mainly steel, but copper too.”

“You work with your gift? That’s amazing!”

Charles wasn't imagining the blush in the dim light of the room anymore.

“Thank you. It’s not much easier btw, some people accuse me of cheating but it isn’t. I still have to figure out the forms beforehand and work hard to shape the metal, it’s just that I use other tools.”

Charles nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s finally paying off too. I’m partaking in an exhibition at RAMIKEN on the Lower East Side.”

“That’s impressive!”

“Thank you. I sold two sculptures already.” Max smiled and started to fold the unwrinkled trousers. He pulled out a fresh fine-rib shirt from the bag too and stretched it over his exquisitely muscled torso. A few centuries back he wouldn't have been the artist but the model everyone fought over, Charles thought. He suddenly felt a pang of desperation. Every bit of clothing back on the gorgeous body meant he was going to leave sooner and Charles had to abandon him to another horde of lustful men or women.

“Sooo, Eisenhart…”

The other man laughed.

“Yeah, it’s a play on my mother’s name. It means “hard like iron” in German. I thought it fit.”

Oh boy did it ever fit. In more than one way.

“It’s a nom du plus, if you will. My real name is Erik. Erik Lehnsherr.”

“You have the Bond introduction down, my friend,” Charles chuckled. “Erik…”

“Yeah…”

Erik looked at the door and then for no reason began to fold the trousers all over again. Charles wasn’t the only one who didn’t want this conversation to stop or this evening to end so he said, “Listen, I don’t want to be weird or anything, and I don’t want to keep you from work, but I’d love to talk to you a little more. Maybe over a coffee? Could I by any chance get your phone number?”

Erik sighed and shook his head.

“As much as I’d like to, I can’t. No dating customers. My boss would kill me, vice is on her heels enough as it is. There are always accusations of prostitution floating around.”

“Oh… I see.” Charles really did understand but that didn’t mean he would give up. Erik had asked to borrow the iron, got him away from the party and said that he’d like to go on a date with him if he could. He also was the most interesting (and hot, Charles made no illusions about his reasons) man he’d met in months. So he wouldn’t be defeated that easily.

“Technically you were hired for a group of females. I’m just the nice big brother with an appreciation of the arts and mutations. So…if, say, tomorrow at five, someone were to visit the gallery… would there be a chance that the artist would give that someone a tour?”

Erik looked down, fiddling with the fabric of his trousers again, the gears in his head clearly working.

“I don’t want to impose…”

“Quarter to six would be better. Less people.”

Charles grinned and Erik’s face mirrored his smile. Something wicked crept in it too when he unfolded the trousers again and slid the tight material up his athletic runner legs.

“So, quarter to six, tomorrow, RAMIKEN. Would it be too forward if the someone made dinner reservations at a … sushi?Restaurant?”

Erik shook his head, the grin still on his lips.

“No, that would be fine. I can't guarantee you any dessert though. Technically even this is forbidden. Flirting with customers after the show I mean.”

He bucked his hips to tuck himself in and to hell with it, Charles stepped closer.

“I’m glad you think this is flirting, because it means you'll be entirely unprepared for the groovy lines of the stranger you'll meet tomorrow at quarter to six. The one who knows how to work and to wait for his dessert.”

“Oh really?” 

Erik stepped in too. Charles was suddenly aware of his breathing when the gap between them closed to only a few inches.

“I should say something sexy but the only thing I can think of is how ridiculously hard I hope you’ll like it. Then again, if you don't, be prepared to have me convince you that you like it. It means a lot to me.”

“That was sexy. Pride in one's work is very sexy.”

“Good…”

Erik’s eyes wandered down to Charles’ lips, his own mouth slightly parted. How could someone dance like that, look so masculine and strong yet blush so cutely at the same time? 

He really needed to kiss Erik right now, every sense of his being screamed at him to do it because hot guy. Right there. He wants you to!!! But hadn't Erik just said that this was verboten?

“So… would having starters today get you into trouble?” 

There the smile was again, big and goofy; it shouldn’t make Charles want to kiss him more but it did. Erik, however, withdrew and looked grateful for the way out. 

“Yes. It could. No matter how much I’d love to taste them.” 

Charles smiled and shrugged his shoulders as if it was a mild annoyance and his penis wasn’t cursing him loudly.  
Before he could say anything more though, a tipsy Ororo barged in.

“Everything alright? Raven sent me to ask if the bendy naked man needs any rescuing?”

Still so close he could feel the other man's body heat, they both simultaneously snorted.

“No thanks, I’m quite alright.”

“Yep, he is. And he’s not naked anymore and neither am I, no matter what Raven apparently thinks of me. You can look, Ororo.”  
Charles quickly stepped back, his eyes glued on Erik's whose smile softened into something hopeful and happy.

“Well yes indeed, looking sounds like a good plan.”

She grinned and gave Erik another appraising once-over.

Never taking his eyes off Charles he said,“I think I'm ready. I'll take my leave then.”

Erik gathered up his stuff and Charles escorted him through the shameless herd in the living room, never allowing more than a foot of space between them.

At the door he leaned against the frame, unsuccessfully trying to block the eyes of the nosy people inside.

“Tomorrow then.”

“I’m already looking forward to it.”

Charles could only detect honesty in his words.

They smiled at each other and when Erik turned, he took in the view of the triangular shaped perfection again who had just agreed to go on a date with him. That night had taken a lovely turn. Go Charles.

“GO CHARLES!” -Half a dozen too loud female voices chimed from the living room.

“You’re a dog!”  
“Next time speak up I couldn’t hear a word you were saying in there…”  
“I KNEW he was gay. All the hot ones are!”  
“Charles and stripper man sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S…”

“Oh shut up!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by RL events. The stripper my friend hired for her last birthday party really started ironing his clothes in front of us. Unfortunately he wasn't as cute as Erik. The reactions are genuine too, yours truly is played by Kitty in this. :D


End file.
